


thank you for being lifeless.

by faucer



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Anal Sex Mention, Angst, Eden Club (Detroit: Become Human), Other, light wire play, no beta we die like men, pegging mention if you consider reader female, sex mention, the future isn't fun, traci AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-20
Updated: 2018-12-20
Packaged: 2019-09-23 03:20:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,266
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17072540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faucer/pseuds/faucer
Summary: “delighted to meet you.”he doesn’t need a reply“follow me, i’ll take you to your room”you can’t help but comply“your selected settings as an eden club customer are the following: penetrative sex. would you like to change them?”





	thank you for being lifeless.

“delighted to meet you.”  
your face twists in a confused expression “this is not our first meeting” is the mechanical response you succeed to spit, nervous, unsettled, too fixated in admiring his naked figure.   
a gentle smile “mh? is that so?” with a disarming tenderness he latches onto your arm, already taking you to a vacant room “eden club policy is to delete androids’ memory every two hours” the door opens with a hiss and you enter “ahh, right. i must have forgotten about that.” an awkward tug of your lips and he kindly gestures you to drop on the bed “what are your preferences? penetrative sex? toys, perhaps? feel free to use me as you please.”  
you lower your head, fidgeting, thighs trembling lightly “penetrative sex will do this time.”  
“very well.”

“delighted to meet you.”  
your mouth is pressed in a determined façade “don’t you remember me?” your heart racing, certain that what you shared transcends the merciless wiping of data “i’m sorry, eden club policy is to delete androids’ memory every two hours.” choking your breath you decide to gaze at a corner, trying to not let tears ruin your 29.99 bucks “ahh, is that so?” the hint of a wavering laugh on your part but he doesn’t answer, already taking you to a vacant room.  
“your selected settings as an eden club customer are the following: penetrative sex. is that correct?”  
“yes”  
“would you like to change them?”  
“no”  
“very well.”  
  
“delighted to meet you.”  
a sigh is the only thing escaping you as he continues talking without truly measuring his words “follow me, i’ll take you to your room.”  
he doesn’t even have to ask you to get comfortable, as you do so yourself “your select—” “toys.” you interrupt him, your steady voice above the muffled hypnotic music “toys– i’d like to try them.” hoping to stir some sort of reaction out of him that’s not the usual polite farse he reserves for everyone “very well.” hoping something different from this.  
  
“delighted to meet you.”  
gulping down the ache in your chest you briefly close your lids, recollecting your composure that falters each time he says those exact same oaths “follow me, i’ll take you to your room.”  
you nod, chasing his broad frame in the darkness of a blue ‘available’.  
“your sele—” “stop!” silence fills the ambience, your palms covering the source of that rude outbreak “stop– i don’t want this….” a simulated worry on his countenance, tilting his skull to show concern and surprise, curiosity, maybe “have you changed your mind? refunds are not possible, however–” “no– no, i’m–  _i want you._ ” you look into his eyes, searching for something, someone, a small clue of your love’s projection “very well, then–” no no  _ **no**_  that’s not what he should say, that’s not what should happen every saturday “please….” you beg, biting hard on your own skin “i don’t want to have sex tonight” quietness again “eden club policy–” “i don’t fucking care!” rage replacing that little lust you had for today “sleep…. just sleep with me.”  
if his programs would allow it he’d be weirded out by such request “very well.” but they don’t.  
  
“delighted to meet you.” he doesn’t need a reply “follow me, i’ll take you to your room” you can’t help but comply.  
“your selected settings as an eden club customer—”  _“don’t.”_  an uncontrollable angry growl “excuse me?” his retort, devoid of sensations as always, not worried in the slightest  _“i’m not an eden club customer.”_  he doesn’t add anything, not understanding the nuance of your correction to his usual form “i want to be inside you.”  
“very well.”  
his chest is warm at the touch, artificial sweat adorning his temples and his toned muscles. you never noticed, busy with embarrassment, how he’s beautified with tons of holographic shiny glitters, ‘oiled up like a slave’ you ponder. but fleeting thoughts last no more than few mere seconds, your mind filled with pleasure, both yours and his, a puddle of moans under your scrutiny, panting, wriggling and tightly clinging to the red mattress’ covers. is this love? is this happiness? is he really not feeling? not feeling your bodies colliding, your thrusts, the noise, the static electricity, the pain, the heat, the lubricant sliding between you two? is he–? “your time will be over in five minutes” you halt, gasping for air and a break, fingers restlessly raking your scalp “more time.” “that will cost you–” “more time!” you don’t even let him finish, on the verge of yelling “as you wish. payment will be completed at the exit.”  
you admire his torso beneath you, a still-life painting in which you fell in love with. were you to smear him using your colours, would it change the outcome of your common picture?

you find yourself craving for him any moment of your being, initially yearning for his sweet nothings, his caresses and the softness of your first time spent together that you fondly reminisce.  
but then your appetite starts to distort, to rot; dizzily the habit slowly becomes a drug: work, bed, masturbate, repeat, work, bed, masturbate, repeat, work, bed, masturbate, repeat, work, bed, masturbate, repeat, work, bed, masturbate, repeat, work, bed, masturbate, repeat, work, sex, repeat, work, sex, masturbating is not enough, sex, sex, sex, sex  _ **– sex.**_

“delighted to meet you. follow me, i’ll take you to your room.”  
“your selected settings—”  _“sit.”_  he obeys, legs faintly parted, waiting for more commands “open the plate on your abdomen.” “i must warn you: damage done on—” “ _i said:_ open the plate on your abdomen. i want to see it.” he doesn’t object, his nude fluid retreating, showing you a white piece of plastic instead, lazily recoiling behind his upper half. you move closer, analyzing the blue glowing tubes tangled in intricate designs, if you stroke them will he get hard? you suppose his groan is the equivalent of a ‘yes’ and continue teasing him. gradually his back arches, his toes curl, his long legs relax and surrender to the stroboscopic floor under their own weight “beautiful” is all you manage to softly whisper, concentrating on picking the wires that make him whimpers the most “use your words.” “a–aah– it feels– so good–” “master. call me that.” “it– feels good, master.” he pitifully whines, short of breath, fluttering lashes “more– more, ah– please, master.” you linger on his wires, watching his features drenched in complete ecstasy, has anyone else ever thought of him? of his desires? of his orgasms? has anyone else ever got him absolutely enthralled as he is now? “needy.” you mutter, not expecting him to glance back at you, his LED a lasciviousness crimson “mess me up more, master.” a bit startled you return to this blissful task, basking in his endless delicious sounds “needy, just like me.” you murmur, consciously aware that because he doesn’t understand emotions he’s not able to rejoice of your praises, nor of your hands’ warmth; and you’re sure, if you named him unpleasant, he wouldn’t be hurt, as his heart is not beating and he’s unable to know a heart’s pain “is the future fun?” your wondering voice cracks, you’re crying, silently falling apart, forehead scarcely placed against him, you could rip off his innards, he’d die at your mercy and you would be his last night, his last memento. but he’d probably be repaired the day after, without a trace of you in his records.  
for this reason you’re glad that everything his world is made of is nothing but unforgiving code.

“delighted to meet you.”


End file.
